Quezon's first visit
to Malacañang

THERE are many places in Manila that continue to stimulate my imagination even if I have been there a number of times before. Intramuros, Fort Santiago, the National Museum, the Metropolitan Museum, the Lopez Memorial Museum, etc. -- all these places make me wonder about the past and whether my recreation of it is faithful or not.

Yet there are two places that have kept me fascinated more than museums, and these are the Chancery Ballroom of the US embassy on Roxas Boulevard, and Malacañang. The former, recently renovated, reminds me of movies that show the Oval Office in the White House. This large stately ballroom is about as close as I will ever get to the seat of power in Washington, D.C., so the place generates many stray thoughts.

Malacañang has the same effect, with the difference that the reflections generated here are on recent Philippine history. While walking through the public areas of Malacañang, I often wish the walls could talk and restore what is largely lost to history.

The famous hardwood staircase with the heavy red carpet is quite historical because Manuel Luis Quezon in his autobiography, "The Good Fight," says that when he entered Malacañang as president of the Commonwealth, he remembered the legend that Teodora Alonso, the mother of Jose Rizal, climbed the very same steps on her knees in December 1896 to beg the Spanish governor-general to spare her son's life. Quezon claims the story of this staircase made him averse to capital punishment. Thus, during his watch nobody fried in the electric chair.

Quezon also recalls his first visit to Malacañang in 1901 and how he found Emilio Aguinaldo there, the President of the First Republic as a "guest" -- or should we say, prisoner -- of the United States military under General Arthur MacArthur, the father of Douglas, who would later form part of our history as well. We hope the incoming transient resident of the Palace will read Quezon's narrative to gain perspective:

"Trembling with emotion, I slowly walked through the hall toward the room, hoping against hope that I would find no one inside. At the door two American soldiers in uniform, with gloves and bayonets, stood on guard. As I entered the room, I saw General Aguinaldo -- the man whom I had considered as the personification of my own beloved country, the man who I had seen at the height
of his glory surrounded by generals and soldiers, statesmen and politicians, the rich and the poor, respected and honored by all. I now saw that same man alone in a room, a prisoner of war! It is impossible for me to describe what I felt, but as I write these lines forty-two years later, my heart throbs as fast as it did then. I felt that the whole world had crumbled; that all my hopes and all my
dreams for my country were gone forever! It took me some time before I could collect myself, but finally I was able to say in Tagalog, almost in a whisper, to my General: 'Good evening, Mr. President.'

"'Good evening,' he answered rather coldly.

"I continued: 'I have been sent by General Mascardo to find out whether it is true that you have been captured and if so to receive your instructions as to whether he should continue fighting or surrender.'

"General Aguinaldo did not answer. It was clear from the expression of his face (and very seldom did General Aguinaldo betray his thoughts) that he suspected me of being a spy. So I turned my head and showed him a scar on my neck caused by a treatment used by Filipino herb doctors in the villages to cure a fever. As soon as he saw the scar his face brightened somewhat, and he said: 'I am glad to see you. How many more men has General Mascardo?'

"I answered: 'About three hundred in Bataan, one hundred and fifty or two hundred in Zambales, with two or three rounds of ammunition.'

"'How are you getting along with your food?' he asked.

"'Sometimes we eat nothing for twenty-four hours; most of the time we have rice twice a day, and very seldom we get fish or meat,' was my reply.

"The General then proceeded: 'As you can see, I am now a prisoner. I have taken the oath of allegiance to the United States and I have no right directly or indirectly to advise you to go on fighting. On the other hand, if I were to send word to General Mascardo to surrender, he might think that I am acting under duress and he would have the right to disobey me. General Mascardo has to assume the responsibility and decide for himself, whether he wants to surrender or not.
If you see him, give him my best regards and tell him what you have seen, that is, that I am in Malacañang, very well treated by the Americans, but a prisoner just the same.

"With tears in my eyes I prayed, 'God keep you, Mr. President,' and left. I went to the house of Dr. Alejandro Albert, a former colonel of the Philippine Army, and spent the night there. I did not sleep. I thought of General Aguinaldo, my country and the future -- a very dark future as it seemed to me then!"

The above shows how history can have its twists and turns because three decades after their meeting in Malacañang, Quezon and Aguinaldo would be political rivals seeking the presidency of the Philippine Commonwealth. Quezon won and left us with readable memoirs. Aguinaldo did the same. And we hope all presidents follow their example.

Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu